


Playing Bingo for Dildos and Other College Stories

by Sparisoma



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi as an RA, Alternate Universe - College/University, Borderline crackfic, F/F, Innuendo, M/M, accidentally breaking car doors, bacon cooked at impractical hours, immaturity in art history, is something burning?, losing game priviledges, questionable bingo prizes, stories of haikyuu characters based on real events, suga daichi and asahi as housemates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-07-06 16:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15889530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparisoma/pseuds/Sparisoma
Summary: An Alternate Universe where all the characters attend University and find themselves in situations that later serve as rather interesting stories.Things like a rather odd game of bingo, an alarming amount of bacon cooked at odd hours, trying to leave a facial imprint in a snowbank, almost breaking your friend's new car, and being far to immature to seriously analyze Michelangelo's David statue.





	1. The Bingo Game

Huh.

Suga looked at the flyer on the wall and then down at the phone in his hands where, through Facebook, he had been just invited to the same event advertised in neon print. He should have seen this coming after writing his name down for practically all of the LGBTQ+ clubs on campus. Though instead of finding community within the groups, he mostly went to the meetings to steal all the gummy bears.

He looked at the flier and at the time it was scheduled: 6:00 the next Monday.

Suga pulled out his phone and thumbed through the contacts; if he was going to attend this event, there was no way he was going to do so alone.

But who to call? He could practically see Daichi and Asahi blushing and furiously denying the invitations. While his housemates were usually down to raid the snack table at events, _this_ particular event was a little more extreme.

 

“Kuroo here,” Kuroo said picking up after the third ring.

“Hey are you free next Monday at 6:00?” Suga asked keeping his voice low and shuffling away from the bulletin board.

“No I have lab,” Kuroo sighed.

“Bummer, never mind then,” Suga said moving to hang up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa you can’t just hang up on me Suga. Why were you asking?” Kuroo’s asked with an inquisitive and mischievous tone.

Suga gulped, “nothing.”

“Liar,” Kuroo purred, “spill Suga are you trying to do something illegal?”

“Not illegal!” Suga squawked loud enough to gain the attention of some students studying at a table. His face flushed and he quickly shuffled down the hall and out of earshot.

“It’s something sex-related isn’t it,” Kuroo deadpanned.

Suga choked on his words and Kuroo’s notorious laughter filtered through the phone.

“Do tell, do tell,” Kuroo drawled.

So Suga told him. And Kuroo proceeded to laugh for a solid minute, loud, eye-watering, laughter that rendered him unable to speak.

 _“Man, I hope you win Suga,”_ Kuroo said before having to hang up.

 

 With Kuroo out of the question there left only one other person Suga was willing to have as a companion. Said person was currently juggling a space-themed shoulder bag, a cup of coffee, and his ID card as he tried to swipe into the university library.

“Oikawa!” Suga called running up despite his heavy laptop in his backpack. Since his hands were free he was able to use his ID to unlock the door for both of them.

“Mr. Refreshing!” Oikawa cooed as they walked towards a secluded table in the back of the stacks.

Earlier in the year, the table had been discovered by Akaashi as a decent place to study; better than the group rooms that were always reserved and the ‘forever-alone desks.’

“What brings you here? Thought you liked to study in your apartment? Did someone’s thighs get too distracting?” Oikawa teased sipping his coffee.

“I have a proposition-”

“- and you know I’m still dating Iwa,” Oikawa huffed in mock offence.

Suga rolled his eyes as he sat down in the chair across from Oikawa and leaned in close. “I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to an event, a game night offering a prize at the end,” Suga whispered. (And not just because they were in a library.)

“What’s the prize?” Oikawa asked lowering his eyelids and matching Suga’s quiet tone.

“A pleasurable one,” Suga grinned evilly making Oikawa throw his head back and laugh just under the maximum level of noise allowed in a library.

“What is this event?” Oikawa asked leaning close.

“Bingo for Dildos.”

 “I’m in.”

Suga chuckled at the quick acceptance of the invitation without hearing any other details.

“When? Where? Oh my gosh what if we actually win,” Oikawa giggled talking a mile a minute.

 “Monday at 6:00,” Suga said.

“And I take it we aren’t telling Daichi? Don’t want him to know this side of you?” Oikawa said slyly.

“I could say the same for you and Iwaizumi. But face it Toruu, our boyfriends _definitely_ know about this side of us. It's been long enough that there is no chance of denying anything,” Suga countered.

Oikawa draped a hand dramatically across his forehead and leaning back in his chair. “It seems like nothing surprises them nowadays, I fear they may grow bored” he sighed.

Suga rose from his chair grabbing his wallet to buy coffee from the small cart in front of the library. “Maybe winning a sparkly purple dildo will solve that problem,” he hissed as he walked away.

Oikawa’s shout nearly got them kicked out of the library.

 

_From Kuroo: Be sure to tell me how it goes ;)_

Suga shoved his phone into his pocket and looked around the student center for Oikawa. Bingo-for-dildos, sorry, ‘ _Safe-Sex-Extravaganza_ ,’ event hosted by the Student Health Department and a coalition of several LGBTQ+ clubs on campus. The event was about to start and there was no way Suga was walking in alone.

“Ready?” Oikawa asked suddenly appearing next to Suga making him jump. “You feeling lucky today?”

Suga grinned and held out his arm, “let’s go win a dildo.”

 

“The next number is 14, if you have that number on your card, discuss at your tables what is written in the box!” The announcer said.

The room was surprisingly full of people from various campus groups. Suga hoped none of them would come up to him and confront him about taking all the gummy bears at meetings. They were all playing individually while sitting at round tables. Oikawa sat on his right while someone he’d never met sat on his left.

“I have that number!” Oikawa cried. “ _’Student health services are open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and does free STI testing,_ ” Oikawa read aloud with a cheery voice that Suga wondered how he kept a straight face. 

Suga looked at his card, he also had the number 14, “condoms are currently the cheapest form of birth control,” he said.

“To make industrially,” someone, who’d identified themselves as an economics major, piped up, “but then companies unfairly increase the price per box.”

“Good thing we came here then,” Oikawa grins and shuffles the basket at the center table currently filled with…free condoms.

The entire table laughed. Suga was pretty sure he was the only one who noticed Oikawa slipping a few of the plastic packages up his sleeve.

 

“The number is… 31! Please share with your table members what is written on your card!”

 

_Number 88!_

_Number 6!_

_Number 75!_

_Number 90!_

“Oh my god,” Oikawa punched Suga’s shoulder pointing two his card, “oh my god.”

Suga’s eyes widened.

 

_"The next number is...23!"_

 

“You just won,” Suga said as he grabbed Oikawa’s card and pointed at the blacked out line across the bottom.

“I won,” Oikawa gasped.

“You won!”

“I get the dildo! BINGO I WON THE DILDO!” Oikawa cried laughing manically and standing up on his chair waving the card.

“’ _Bingo I won the dildo,_ ” Suga wheezed and immediately pulled out his phone. Kuroo was not going to believe this.

 

As it turned out, Oikawa had won the first of several rounds of bingo. His prize, a neon pink dildo with a suction cup at the base, was displayed erect at the center of the table for the rest of the night. During the next several games of bingo held during the event, just looking at it sent everyone at the table into a fit of giggles.

“This will _definitely_ solve the little problem I was worried about earlier. Eh Suga?” Oikawa, suddenly becoming the devil, asked loud enough for the entire table to hear. Suga spit out his water and spent the next round coughing with watery eyes while everyone at the table blushed furiously.

 

Nearly an hour later Suga and Oikawa stood outside the student center preparing to walk across campus.

Except there was a problem.

“I honestly didn’t think we would win,” Suga said shaking his head.

“ _Suugaa,_ ” Oikawa whined waving his prize. It flopped around with a rubber _fwap-fwap_ sound. “What do we do now? We can’t just walk across campus with a giant pink dildo in hand!”

Neither of them had though to bring a bag to carry the prize in.

Suga shrugged and grinned evilly, “sounds like a personal problem.”

“Suga! Don’t just leave me to carry this by myself! What if the police stop me because they think I’m a pervert who carries around a fluorescent dildo!?”

Suga snickered, “hid it in your jacket or something, whip it out for Iwaizumi when you get home?”

“Stop the innuendos!” Oikawa gasped biting his lip to stop himself from laughing.

“Got a better idea of how to carry it?” Suga snickered.

And that was how Oikawa ended up walking across campus with a suspiciously shaped bulge in his jacket.

 

Would Suga do something like that again?

Possibly. The night had actually been really informative about safe-sex and the services offered on campus.

Plus, Suga wasn’t the one who won that night. No sparkly purple dildo for him…not yet at least.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Always be sure to practice safe sex and, if needed, educate yourself from reliable sources. 
> 
> Swim on by at aetobatus-narinari.tumblr.com


	2. The Bacon Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo wants cookies. Bokuto wants bacon.  
> What could possibly go wrong?
> 
> A lesson in following directions and in moderation.

Cookies.

Kuroo was craving cookies, the kind that melted in the mouth and made everything better. And after a busy weekend of studying, nothing seemed better that Sunday night than a fresh batch of cookies.

Except he had no recipe. He wasn’t willing to search for one that would accommodate the random ingredients found in his small dorm; he wanted cookies _now_.

Time for a little experimenting. And, since he was acing his two science lab classes, he knew he was great at experimenting.

 

Flour. Butter. Milk. Apples. Brown Sugar.

 “This should be fine,” Kuroo reasoned piling everything into the pot he normally used for making ramen.

“What are you doing?” Kenma, whom Kuroo shared a dorm with, asked looking up from beneath his fuzzy blue blanket.

“Making cookies,” Kuroo said heading for the door, “come with me.”

Kenma slowly rolled off his bed, where he normally took up residence in the evening, and slipped his feet into his green slippers. “Do you have a recipe?”

Unlike Kuroo, Kenma actually made food other than ramen from time to time.

“I’ll figure something out,” Kuroo said “can’t be too hard to make up a cookie recipe.”

Kenma said nothing but Kuroo could hear the doubt in his huff.

 

The kitchen was in the basement floor of the dorm hall he and Kenma lived in along with Bokuto who lived one floor above the two of them. Akaashi lived and served as the Residence Assistant on the first floor.

(Upon learning that Akaashi would be an RA, everyone was happy for him. And then terrified because the list of things Akaashi was obligated to write-up or notify authorities for was _long_.)

 

“Kenma can you get the door?” Kuroo asked pointing with his foot to the door leading down to the basement kitchen.

Kenma however, had disappeared down the hall to knock on a door decorated with a bunch of nametags and fliers. Seconds later, Akaashi answered.

“Kuroo is going to try and make cookies without a recipe, would you like to watch?” Kenma asked. Kuroo suddenly had the feeling that Kenma was only abandoning his game in favor of potentially watching Kuroo crash and burn at baking.

“Sure. Bokuto also texted that he is cooking something,” Akaashi said closing his door and locking it with his key that was attached to a ridiculous yellow lanyard that read ‘RA.’

The three descended the stairs leading to the basement floor of the building where the common room, the laundry room, and lastly, the kitchen were housed.

Akaashi pushed the door to the kitchen open and…

 

“ _Good lord,”_ Kuroo said unable to stop himself. 

“Oh hey guys!” Bokuto yelled where he was currently dual wielding a set of frying pans that were nearly full to the brim with boiling oil. “Makin some bacon!”

Bokuto didn’t need to say anything, the overwhelming smell of bacon covered them like a blanket. The strong scent that instantly made mouths water and stomachs growl as it settled over every surface where it would cling for weeks. It was unnatural how not a whiff escaped the confines of the kitchen yet as soon as the door opened the telltale scent crashed down like a tidal wave.

On Bokuto’s left side was a plate piled high with already cooked bacon while on the left was a mound of packaged bacon waiting its turn. It was the kind that came in the super big bundle, with pouches that could not be resealed after pulling the tab.

All of them had been opened.

“Bokuto its nine o’clock on a Sunday night what are you doing cooking all this bacon?” Akaashi cried walking over only to be driven back by the heat and the bubbling grease.

“Got a little hungry,” was all Bokuto said.

“A _little?”_ Akaashi asked counting up all the pouches that had yet to be cooked. (11)

“That’s like six pounds of bacon,” Kenma muttered climbing onto a vacant countertop.

“Made two pounds last weekend,” Bokuto smiled nodding.

“Bokuto you can’t possibly eat all this bacon in one sitting!” Akaashi cried.

“Good thing you’re here!” Bokuto said cheerily waving a set of plastic-coated tongs that were probably more suited to serving salad.

 

Kuroo set his cookie supplies down on the main table and tried to walk over to look at the bacon currently hissing and popping in the pan. He reached around and grabbed a few of the already cooked pieces.

“Good bacon,” Kuroo shrugged.

Not as good as his freestyle cookies were about to be.

 

“Bokuto you’ll be here till midnight cooking bacon,” Akaashi said pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Good thing I have two frying pans going,” Bokuto said gripping the handles of the frying pans and giving them a shake. Grease sloshed over the side and onto the hot stove surface where it proceeded to hiss loudly and smoke.

“ _Bokuto!”_ Akaashi cried and grabbed a towel attempting to wipe away the mess.

“Careful Akaashi, I already burned myself twice!” Bokuto cried gesturing to his bicep. Or possibly flexing and showing off, it was hard to tell.

“You’re not gonna report me are you Akaashi? I am not breaking any quiet-hour rules or anything,” Bokuto frowned.

Akaashi sighed shaking his head and reassuring Bokuto that no, there was no limit to the amount of bacon cooked in the dorm kitchen. (Not yet at least)

 

“Kuroo that doesn’t look right,” Kenma said leaning over and getting a look at the round blobs Kuroo was currently placing on a rusted baking sheet.

“And apple chunks don’t belong in cookies,” Kenma added (apple belonged in pie).

“Have a little faith would ya?” Kuroo huffed standing up and dusting the flour off his hands. It was time for the first batch to go into the oven.

Except the stove where Bokuto was currently deep-frying bacon was over the oven.

“Uh, Bo?” Kuroo held his pan (which was actually meant for cooking brownies) out as far as possible to avoid being splashed with grease.

_“Makin’ Bacon,”_ Bokuto sang completely unaware.

“Bokuto move, Kuroo wants to put his cookies in,” Akaashi sighed, resigned to simply watching the dual disasters unfold.

“Oops sorry bro,” Bokuto said shying to the side and leaving Kuroo to face the furious heat alone.

Using the spoon he had previously used to stir the mix, Kuroo opened the oven and all but tossed the cookie pan inside. With a triumphant grin he turned and gave Bokuto a high-five.

_And Kenma doubted I could make cookies._

“Kuroo did you preheat the oven?” Akaashi suddenly asked.

_Shit._

Over on the counter, Kenma snorted behind his hand.

“These,” Kuroo said as he carefully wove his arm around the edges of the pan and began pressing buttons on the oven, “are going to be slow-bake cookies. They’ll warm up with the oven.”

“Smart dude!” Bokuto said as he resumed his place in front of the frying pans.

 

Despite the odds and lack of kitchen safety, Bokuto was actually rather adept at cooking bacon. As long as one overlooked the fact that he had obviously not though about emptying the grease from the pan once in a while. And the fact that there was roughly _six pounds_ to be eaten. (6.2 to be exact; Akaashi had needed to do _something_ other than sit back and watch and had calculated the correct weight.)

 

Kenma, in the meantime had gone back to his and Kuroo’s room to switch out the game he had currently been playing. He returned as swiftly as he had left however the moment he opened the door, he froze.

 

“Um,” he said eloquently, “are you guys aware this kitchen is filling with smoke?”

 

Kuroo and Akaashi froze looking around the kitchen; Bokuto kept singing about his bacon. In addition to the stifling heat and aroma of bacon, the room had slowly filled with tendrils of white smoke due to the burning grease in the pans.

 

“Shit,” Kuroo said.

“Bokuto, that’s enough bacon, turn off the stove _now_ ,” Akaashi ordered running over and grabbing towel to try and clear the smoke away from the fire alarm located directly overhead.

“Whoops,” Bokuto said switching the stove off and grabbing another towel.

“I’m propping the door,” Kenma said opening the kitchen door wide.

“We’re not allowed to prop those open though, it’s a fire hazard,” Kuroo said.

“We’re about to set the fire alarms off and piss everyone in the building off unless we prop the doors,” Kenma argued.

“As an RA I give you permission to do that,” Akaashi said, “Kuroo come get your cookies out of the oven too.”

Kuroo stepped between Bokuto and Akaashi to grab his cookies out of the oven.

“Those don’t even look baked,” Bokuto muttered.

“Shut up,” Kuroo scowled, “your cooking might set the fire alarm off.”

With the energy of four stressed college students not wanting to earn the wrath of their entire dorm hall, they did their best to ventilate the kitchen and pack away the evidence that they were even there. Which included shoving Bokuto’s mountain of bacon into a too-small Tupperware and into his backpack.

Kuroo’s baking supplies were put back into the hastily clean pot he’d used as a mixing bowl and his cookies on one of the spare paper plates Bokuto was going to use to hold his bacon. The original plates had become soggy sheets of paper from all the oil that had dripped from the cooked bacon.

“What do we do about the pans?” Kenma asked pointing to the two frying pans that were still full of steaming grease.

“Got that covered!” Bokuto said holding up an empty plastic bottle.

“Did you just chug that entire sports drink in one go?” Kuroo asked.

“Can’t just pour the grease down the sink, so into the bottle it goes!” Bokuto placed the bottle in the sink and picked up the first frying pan.

“Bokuto no its made of plastic!” Kuroo cried but could only watch as his friend poured the contents of the pan into the container.

“Will that release toxic fumes?” Kenma asked.

“I’m going to be fired,” Akaashi muttered pinching the bridge of his nose once again.  

The contents of the two pans filled the bottle to the brim with a murky brown liquid. Before anyone could reason better Bokuto screwed the lid on tight. For a second, nothing happened. And then slowly, the bottle began to melt and contort from the heat of the grease.

Faster than Kuroo could blink, Kenma rushed forward, grabbed the tongs Bokuto had been using, picked up the melting bottle and threw it into the kitchen’s communal freezer.

“ _Good lord,_ ” Kuroo said again that night.

Nobody moved, nobody breathed.

“Um, are you sure that was the smartest thing to do?” Akaashi asked as Kenma set the tongs into the sink along with the soaking pans.

But before anyone could answer, footsteps came from the hallway.

“Hey there-” a voice asked before suddenly breaking into a coughing fit, “wow it is smoky in here too.”

The four students whipped around to find Daishou Suguru from the first floor leaned against the doorframe waving a hand in front of his face in an attempt to be able to breath.

“Smells like someone was cooking bacon, is there any to share?” He asked coughing again.

“Nope. We came down here ourselves to look. Just made some cookies.” Akaashi choked out as he pushed Bokuto and Kuroo towards the door.

“Really Akaashi? Everyone in the entire building can smell it, the basement floor and the first floor especially. Also there is a lot of smoke. You guys didn’t just make a fresh batch or anything?” Daishou asked narrowing his eyes.

“Nope,” Akaashi lied through his teeth while shoving Bokuto and then Kuroo into the hallway.

“Cookie?” Kuroo asked holding out the plate.  
  
Daishou looked upon Kuroo’s creation with a mix of curiosity and disgust, “the heck is wrong with them?”

“Nothing is wrong with them, you don’t want any just say so,” Kuroo huffed snatching the plate away and following Bokuto down the hallway.

“What are those pans doing soaking in the sink?” Daishou asked Kenma, who was the last to leave the kitchen.

Kenma gulped “um, we found them like that. Pretty sure they belonged to Terushima from the third floor. Ask him.”

“Goodnight Daishou, see you around,” Akaashi said grabbing Kenma’s shoulder and leading him down the hallway.

 

There was no escape, opening the kitchen door was like opening Pandora’s Box; smoke laden with the musk of bacon had permeated throughout the entire building. Everything Kuroo touched as Akaashi ushered everyone back to his and Kenma’s room felt like it was covered in a thin layer of grease.

_What have we done_

“Okay,” Bokuto pulled the Tupperware of bacon out of his backpack once they four of them were inside Kuroo and Kenma’s room, “why did we lie? Bacon is great.”

Akaashi ran his hands through his hair, “we almost just set the fire alarm off, filled the kitchen and basement floor with smoke, left a contorted and possibly leaking bottle of grease in the freezer, and just made the entire building smell like overcooked bacon. Do you have any idea how potentially pissed that is going to make everyone?”

“Everything is going to smell like bacon for weeks and everyone is going to be hungry now but no food spots are open this late on a Sunday night,” Kenma added.

_What have we done_

“So then what do we do about all this bacon?”

 

Kuroo woke up the next morning feeling slightly sickened by the sight of leftover bacon waiting for him on a plate. The four of them had stayed up nearly an _hour_ trying to finish off the mountain of bacon with little success. Twice, _twice_ , they had heard somebody walk by the door muttering about the smell of cooking breakfast and being hungry. Akaashi and Kenma had been right; whoever it was did not sound happy.

Kuroo sighed and ran his hand through his bedhead. “I don’t think I can ever eat bacon again,” he muttered.

“At least you didn’t make six pounds of those cookies,” Kenma mumbled from the depths of his blankets.

“Hey those cookies were great for a first try. I just need a little more practice-”

“- _no_ ,” Kenma snapped sitting upright, “those cookies were terrible Kuro. You didn’t even put eggs in them, there was nothing to actually bake. You practically made warm clumps of flour and milk with apple junks shoved inside!”

“My cookies,”

“I stand by Akaashi, you and Bokuto are never allowed in the kitchen again without a concrete recipe and supervision!”

“Kenma,” Kuroo whined.

“Shut up and eat your bacon!”

 

 

_To Bokuto:_

_Bokuto._

 

_From Bokuto:_

_Yes Akaashi?_

_To Bokuto:_

_My entire room reeks of bacon. My bed, my clothes, everything._

_From Bokuto:_

_I love you too?_

_To Bokuto:_

_I’m going to kill you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!   
> Always be careful when cooking, do not put hot grease into a bottle. 
> 
> What should the next story be?
> 
> \- Breaking the Car Door  
> \- Immaturity in Art Class  
> \- The Name of the Game is GUT


	3. Daichi's New Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asahi was frustrated because he couldn't get the door to Daichi's car open. But that was only the beginning. 
> 
> This one is for you Slyside

_From Daichi:_

_parked outside_

Asahi rose from the couch he’d been sitting on for the last ten minutes, grabbed his jacket by the door, and knocked on the doorframe of Suga’s room.

“Daichi’s brought the car,” he said.

“Sweet,” Suga said getting up and grabbing a backpack.

One of the necessities of living in an apartment off campus was getting groceries. Getting groceries meant travelling. Travelling meant a need for a form of transportation. And since Daichi commuted to a different university across town, it made sense for him to get a car.

Asahi locked the door to apartment the three of them shared and followed Suga bounding down the steps to the street below.

“It’s gorgeous!” Suga cried running up to the electric blue sedan.

“It’s just a second-hand car Suga,” Daichi said rolling his eyes as Suga patted it affectionately.

“I call front seat!” Suga said opening the door and hopping inside.

Asahi shrugged and took the backseat.

Within minutes they were zipping down the streets towards a shopping mall. Daichi focused on the road; a model driver through and through. Suga tried to get the aux cord working and Asahi simply enjoyed the scenery. Their journey went without a hitch until they reached the parking lot of the department store. Suga and Daichi exited the car just fine. Asahi…

“Daichi I think you still need to unlock my door,” Asahi said attempting to get the handle to work with no success. Not even flipping the lock himself made a difference.

“Sorry,” Daichi pressing buttons on the key set.

The rest of the locks clicked but Asahi’s door remained locked.

“Leave it to Asahi to get stuck,” Suga snickered and pulled on the outside door handle.

The face Suga made when the door _remained_  closed made Asahi laugh.

 “Let me try this,” Daichi pressed the locking buttons on the driver’s side door and with a satisfying click, Asahi’s door opened.

“Hooray!” Suga cried, “but why didn’t you go out the other door?”

“I think you might have child-lock in place,” Asahi said taking a closer look at the door itself.

**Then he proceeded to do the dumbest thing he’d done all week.**

Looking at the part of the door that created the seal with car to keep it closed was a metal hook. There was no other visible switch to keep children from opening the car door from the inside. Asahi pinched the hook with his fingers and pulled. With an audible _clunk_ sound, the hook, originally turned up, now faced partly down.

“What did you just do?” Daichi said leaning down to look at the door.

“I think that just turned off the safety lock, now it can be opened from the inside,” Asahi said.

“Great, let’s go,” Suga motioned to the doors of the store.

Asahi stepped out of the car and pushed the door shut behind him.

_CRUNCH_

Everyone froze and turned back towards the car after hearing the unholy sound of metal scraping metal. Asahi’s door remained open, the door slightly swinging after hitting the side of the sedan.

“Um,” Asahi immediately felt sweat bead on his forehead, “oops?”

 _First I can’t open doors then I can’t close them_ why did things like this have to happen to Asahi? He was a pretty smart person, most problems he could figure out, it wasn’t like he was an idiot who couldn’t poor water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. 

He walked back over and gave the door another push, to make sure it closed this time.

_CRUNCH_

Frustration washed over Asahi; this was no longer a matter of pushing the car door hard enough, and it wasn’t like anything like a seatbelt was in the way.

Suddenly, his frustration turned to fear as he remembered the small ‘adjustment’ he’d made to the car door earlier. With dread pooling in the pit of his stomach, Asahi considered the possibility that whatever he’d done had definitely not helped.

Daichi walked over to stand next to him and tentatively tried to push the car door shut. Something was definitely stopping it from settling into the side of the car and allowing it to close properly, and Asahi had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what it was.

Asahi bent down and looked at the small, seemingly insignificant metal hook that he’d forcibly changed. It was definitely not for changing any sort of safety settings. With horror Asahi realized that the hook was what actually locked the entire door in place after threading through a ring.  

Sweat accumulated on Asahi’s hands as he wiggled the hook attempting to make it move but it didn’t budge. It was now stuck, half up, half down and hitting the side of the ring preventing the door from closing.

“So, what just happened?” Suga asked looking over Asahi’s shoulder.

 _I just broke Daichi’s car_ panic, embarrassment, utter mortification torched Asahi from head to toe. _Daichi’s brand new car, the car he’d spent over a year saving up for, now has a broken door._

A bead of sweat rolled between Asahi’s shoulder blades and he shifted from foot to foot.

“Um, I think whatever I did isn’t letting the car door close anymore,” Asahi choked out. “It has to do with the locking mechanism, try your keys?”

Daichi’s brow furrowed and he pressed a button on the key set.

Nothing changed.

 _Nothing changed, Daichi’s car is broken, I've broken Daichi's car_ Asahi was two seconds away from a panic attack and Suga’s chuckling was not helping.

Asahi took a few deep breaths and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants.

“Did that fix it?” Daichi asked leaning down to look at the door.

“Um, no,” Asahi cringed.

Daichi huffed and walked back over to the driver’s side and pressed the ‘unlock’ button there.

But nothing changed.

Suga began laughing and tried to change the orientation of the hook himself with no success. “Should we call some mechanic or something?” Suga asked.

Daichi sighed and looked at his phone.

Asahi wished he could melt into the floor. No, he wished lightning would come from the heavens and smite him. He was a terrible friend. One that couldn’t leave things alone and had just broken their friend’s car. It was all over, they wouldn’t get any groceries, they would have to wait for a locksmith to come and fix the car. There would be awkward silence unti the locksmith arrived. And Asahi would have to explain what happened. And the mechanic would judge him, wonder how a grown university student could be so stupid. Daichi would never trust him with anything again, Suga would never believe in him again. 

“We can’t just leave the car here,” Daichi said with a slightly annoyed tone and Asahi sincerely wished he’d stayed in bed that morning. Multiple times he’d seen Daichi beginning to be genuinely annoyed and frustrated; with a scowl gracing his forehead and his lips pursed. Asahi had prayed he would never be the cause. But today, prayers were falling on deaf ears.  

“Can I try?” Suga asked stepping in front of Asahi who was still lost in his ocean of worry.

Was it going to rain? The skies looked gray it might rain. What if a locksmith wasn’t good enough? What if Daichi’s car had to get towed? Daichi couldn’t take the trains, it would add over an hour to his travel time to get to classes. And Asahi would definitely have to pay for it, there was no way he could just break his friend’s car and not pay for it. His parents weren’t going to be happy when he asked for money to cover the cost. What if the car couldn’t be fixed? What if this beautiful blue sedan Suga wanted to call Dalia was beyond repair because of Asahi’s meddling? What if-

_-Click_

“Oh heeeeyyyyyy,” Suga said pointing to the car, “its fixed!”

_PRAISE THE HEAVENS SUGA EXISTS_

A flood, no a tsunami of relief crashed over Asahi. He wasn't going to have to drop out of college to find a job at a convenience store to pay to fix Daichi's car! 

“What did you do?” Asahi asked jumping up and looking at the metal hook which was now back to the original position. He then took a step back just in case his very presence made it break again.

“I just pulled the outside door handle,” Suga snickered, “that’s it.”

“Must have pulled it back into alignment,” Daichi agreed. He gave a push and the door closed with a satisfying _thunk_.

“And we almost called a locksmith,” Suga smirked.  
  
“Asahi are you praying?” Daichi looked at Asahi who was currently on his knees, hands clasped and looking towards the sky mumbling quietly.

“I’m never touching your car again. You’ll have to open every door for me. I’ll never ever lay a hand on it without your supervision.”

Daichi rolled his eyes, “it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“He’s still mumbling,” Suga lead the trio to complete their grocery shopping laughing his head off.

 

But he wasn’t laughing later when he had to fasten Asahi’s seatbelt for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Always be careful when trying to fix things that aren't yours XD
> 
> What should be written next?
> 
> \- The Name of the Game Is GUT  
> \- Immaturity in Art Class  
> \- Fine Wine and Iodine
> 
> Swim on by at aetobatus-narinari.tumblr.com


	4. The Name of the Game is GUT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody really worries about getting hurt during the game, they play volleyball, not soccer. Actually scoring a point is challenging and unlikely.
> 
> But Hinata and Kageyama are known for conquering challenges and succeeding at the unlikely.

“Welcome!” Slurred the current president (because they were civilized and shit) of the volleyball team. He prolonged the first syllable as he slid the doors of the gym open. “To our first monthly madness of the year!”

“Fall in freshmen,” the team’s treasurer (because again, they were a classy and accountable club) growled as he shoved the wide eyed and dazed team members into the gym.

“At the monthly madness, we do things a little differently than normal practice,” the team’s vice-president said gesturing with their arms to the gym and the upperclassmen players already inside the gym. All were currently wearing fleece, full body onesies that matched the school’s clashing colors.

“Two rules!” The treasurer yelled pacing the room and beginning to lecture like the scene from _Fight Club_. “One: team bonding, become friends.”

Hinata looked over at Kageyama to find him staring back at him. They shared a smirk.

“Rule number two: _no volleyball_.”

“What?” Kageyama and Hinata said in unison. Well, Kageyama snapped and Hinata screeched.

“Here at the monthly madness we take one night to relax and become closer as a team by doing something other than volleyball,” Said Ushijima, who was currently standing with the rest of the juniors and wearing an oversized onesie.

The day Hinata and Kageyama had walked into the gym as freshmen to find Ushijima standing inside had been a reenactment of the day Hinata and Kageyama had realized they would be on the same team in high school. Although it could have been expected, it came as a surprise for the freshmen and the junior to coincidentally find themselves on the same team.

The last time Hinata and Kageyama had talked to Ushijima, they had all vowed to defeat each other. However, chances for competition were now found in who could run the fastest laps, spike the strongest, or fit the most dining hall cookies in their mouth at once.

"Why do we have to wear onesies?” Ushijima asked the team’s president.

“Aesthetic,” one of the other juniors said slinging an arm across his shoulder and shushing any further questions.

“Yeah, about the onesies Lefty is asking about,” the president said waving his hand at Ushijima, “I’m president this year and I if I think they are cool as shit, we wear them. Also those are for making it hurt less for what were about to do.”

The freshmen froze, Hinata let out an audible _eep_.

“We’re going to be playing a little game,” the treasurer grinned evilly while holding up an old volleyball, one that had seen better days and was unsuitable for use during an official game.

“Thought you said no volleyball,” Kageyama asked slowly, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

“We aren’t. The name of the game is Gut,” the president said, “the rules are simple _._ Line up on the midlines of each side of the court,” he pointed at the two white lines that would originally divide the team’s space on either side of the volleyball net.

“We go down the line, everyone gets one shot to kick the ball at the person across from you,” the team president demonstrated by brutally drop kicking the old volleyball straight into a random sophomore. The sophomore squawked and flopped to the ground.

“The gut is three points, the head is two, anywhere else is one,” the president concluded.

“And if you _flinch_ ,” the treasurer jumped in front of the shocked freshmen on the word ‘flinch’ making them all jump. “If you flinch the kicker gets a second shot.”

“Scary!” Hinata chirped shying back from the treasurer’s leering grin. (Tanaka had always been intimidating but this was a whole new level).

“Don’t worry,” the vice president said, “this is the part where we recognize there is a reason we play volleyball and not soccer. Or kickball.”

“Last time we played my team was only able to accumulate five points total,” Ushijima said in an attempt to be reassuring.

“Righto Lefty,” the vice president said, “highest point in the history of the game is eleven. It’s more fun to watch the tactics people use to not flinch or the poses they strike!”

“So,” the team president wheeled over a cart full of colorful fleece, “grab a onesie and let’s play.”

 

“ _MISSED!”_

The team’s treasurer flipped off the junior he had failed to hit and the ball was passed to the next person. So far, only three people had been hit total. The vice president had been right, so far everyone had terrible aim when it came to kicking a ball at a target located directly in front of them. It was borderline pitiful.  

“Does this count as hazing?” Hinata whispered to Ushijima who was standing next to him.

“Hazing isn’t allowed. If you wanted to stop playing I’m sure the others would understand,” Ushijima said.

Each year the team sat through a mandatory lecture about the university’s zero-tolerance for hazing. Although the volleyball team liked to play rough and occasionally ridiculous games, they took inclusivity and safety very seriously.  

 “I’ve been hit plenty of times with the ball so I’m not afraid of getting injured,” Hinata said, “but last time I hit Kageyama with a volleyball I thought he was going to kill me.”

Of course, _of course,_ the two of them had been set across from each other. Hinata now regretted telling the vice president, who’d assigned the teams, about the time Hinata had served a volleyball into Kageyama’s head in high school. The vice president had cackled for a solid five minutes and then had proceeded to tell everyone on the team. Kageyama was gifted a helmet with a target painted on it as a joke.

“Oy dumbass, is that the pose you’re picking?” Kageyama suddenly yelled receiving the volleyball and placing it on the ground in front of him.

Contrary to what the team president had demonstrated, the ball had to be placed on the ground; drop-kicks were not allowed. In regards to picking poses, it depended on the preference of the current target. Some tried to become as narrow as possible, others struck poses from movies, and some assumed defensive positions that would minimized the amount of pain that would be inflicted if the ball made contact.

With another ‘ _eep!_ ’ Hinata slapped his arms at his sides and braced for impact.

“Whatever,” Kageyama huffed and then kicked the ball.

“WAH!” Hinata shrieked as the ball flew past so close he could feel the rush of wind it left behind.

“Miss!” The vice president, head of Hinata’s team, yelled.

“He flinched! Blueberry gets another kick!” The team president, head of Kageyama’s team, hollered back.

The vice president and president shared a rivalry-filled friendship that mirrored Hinata and Kageyama’s; they weren’t holding back when it came to making calls on plays.

“Try closing your eyes,” Ushijima whispered and Hinata scrunched his eyes closed tight.

It was a somewhat decent idea, he wouldn’t know when the ball was coming however Kageyama wouldn’t be able to earn a second kick from him seeing it and flinching again. That was the idea except it took a while for Kageyama to get the ball handed back to him. Hinata grew impatient so he opened his eyes just a crack only to find the ball flying towards him again.

“Nng!”

“Missed again!”

“He flinched again too! Kageyama if you don’t get a point after this many flinches you dishonor the onesie gods!” The team president roared.

Hinata was trembling now, Kageyama looked infuriated and determined and Hinata was now slightly more worried than before.

_Kageyama we play volleyball, stop acting like a soccer player going for a penally kick. You’re my best friend. Please stop aiming for my—_

“OOOOW!” Hinata cried as he flew backwards from the impact and curled up in a ball whimpering.

“GUT SHOT! THREE POINTS FOR MY TEAM!” The team president cheered at the same time the vice president began yelling at Kageyama.

“WHAT KIND OF MONSTER NAILS THEIR BOO IN THE GUT?”

“Isn’t that the game?” Kageyama actually cowered under the vice president’s rage.

“Repeat after me! _‘Babe, I’m sorry,’_ ” the vice president ordered.

Hinata was really paying attention to Kageyama’s reaction, he was more concerned with not puking up his dinner and recovering after having the wind knocked out of him. And Kageyama’s team got three whole points from a single hit.

“Are you okay?” Ushijima asked helping Hinata to his feet, “I’ve seen you get a ball to the face before but you never flown as far.”

 _Please, this was nothing compared to when Asahi knocked me out of the court in high school_ ,

“I’m fine,” Hinata wheezed. “Time to earn those points back!"  
  
“He’s alive!” The team president cheered and tossed the ball to him. “Your turn Shrimp!”

It was Hinata’s first kick of the game, he’d never really played soccer before despite having friends in middle school who did. But how hard could it be to kick a stationary ball forward?

Apparently, for someone who spent hours every week running and jumping and had powerful legs in general, pretty damn easy.

_POW!_

The gym fell completely silent. The ball rebounded off the back wall after missing Kageyama by inches with a comical _thud-thud-thud_ and it began cheerily rolling back towards the group. Slowly the team president, no longer hollering and taunting, turned and picked up the ball, moving as if he was scared to touch it as he carried it.

“Holy mother of onesies,” the team president gaped breaking the silence.

“Um,” Hinata gulped.

“I blinked. I saw nothing. I was too fast I don’t- I can’t,” the vice president sputtered.

Hinata, with his strong legs, had sent the ball rocketing forward like it was shot from a cannon.  Kageyama’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates and a look of abject horror covered his face.

“Damn kid, you’ve got a pretty strong kick!” The team treasurer yelled. “Also, Kageyama flinched.”

“Did not!” Kageyama argued.

“I think everyone here jumped a foot in the air,” Ushijima said rubbing his eyes to make sure they were working properly and what he’d just witness wasn’t a hallucination.

“Just let Hinata go again, our team is winning anyways so it doesn’t matter,” the president said diffusing the impending argument.

 _It will matter,_ Hinata thought lining up the ball again a little to the right this time. Without a further thought he kicked.

  _SMACK!_

“Oh no,” Hinata’s life flashed before his eyes.

The gym fell silent once again. In addition to the sound of the ball bouncing on the court came the sound of a body hitting the floor.  
_  
_ “ _YOU JUST KILLED KAGEYAMA!”_ The vice president shrieked leading the charge as everyone ran over to the freshman setter currently lying flat on his back.

“Hinata,” the president snapped marching over and grabbing his shoulders.

Hinata froze trembling in fear of the wrath he had just incurred. The current president rivaled Daichi when it came to terrorizing underclassmen. This was it, this was the end.

“Don’t you _ever_ show that kick to _anyone_ on the soccer team.”

_Huh?_

“ _NOBODY_ mentions anything about Hinata’s kick, if word gets out we’ll never see him again! So say nothing to the school’s team, any club teams, or the intramural groups,” the president ordered.

“Um what?” Hinata’s voice waivered.

“If people do hear about your kicks,” the president rounded on Hinata looking him in the eye with the same terrorizing gaze as before, “you’ll be press-ganged into playing soccer for the rest of your life and you’ll never play volleyball again.”

“Noooooo!” Hinata cried.

The rest of the team chuckled.

“Ahem,” Ushijima spoke up, “I think we should get Kageyama an ice pack and some tissues.”

The group of people surrounding the two friends parted. Hinata turned and looked at Kageyama who had the faint imprint of a volleyball on his face. The look Hinata received was beyond anything he’d ever seen before. The murderous aura radiating from Kageyama surpassed the one from the first time Hinata had hit him with a volleyball nearly four years ago in high school.

“Um. Hi?”

“ _Dumbass,”_ Kageyama growled “ _you’re dead meat_.”

Hinata bolted from the gym screaming apologies. Kageyama, who’d gained a spurt of energy, followed hot on his heels yelling death threats.

 

“Well, that was fun,” the treasurer said tossing the ball a few more times. “But I think the game is over now, we’ve officially found two people for whom it is too dangerous for them to play.”

The rest of the team nodded sagely.

The president nodded. “All right, guess concludes monthly madness, good game everyone!”

One by one the other players filtered out of the gym and began making their way to their homes still clad in fleece onesies.

“Should we try to find and stop Kageyama from strangling Hinata?” Ushijima asked concerned.

“I would say let lovers sort out their own spat but when it comes to those too,” the vice president ran a hand through their hair, “lead the way Lefty.”

 

The missing freshmen were found later. Kageyama had caught Hinata, picked him up, and tossed him into a hedge. 

They didn’t play Gut again after that night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Artists of the internet: Ushijima in a onesie, go. Make the colors clash. If such a thing exists, find it for me. 
> 
> Swim on by at aetobatus-narinari.tumblr.com
> 
> What story should be told next?  
> \- Immaturity in Art Class  
> \- Fine Wine and Iodine  
> \- Is Something Burning?
> 
> NOTE:  
> Never, ever tolerate hazing. Never tolerate things that are meant to harm or humiliate you, if a group requires it as part of initiation, it is not worth joining. Take care everyone.


	5. Immaturity in Art Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, Tendou should never have even signed up for the class to begin with.

In his defense, Tendou Satori was a _fine-_ arts major and not a history-of-art major. Should he have known better when creating his schedule? Probably. As a junior should he have behaved more mature? Definitely. However, being Tendou, did that mean he did either of the previous two things? _Absolutely not_.  

“So once again we see a harmonious collaboration of form, meaning, and politics specifically in the lightened color scheme clearly interpreting Michelangelo’s message from the Sistine Chapple and recreating it in the form of this saint’s martyrdom representing the changes in renaissance culture and interpretation of art style and selectivity of patrons and-”

-and what the heck was coming out of Professor Pierre’s mouth? Tendou blinked, looked at his notes, and then turned back to the projector where a high-definition image of a painting he’d never heard of in his life was displayed.

Call it Baroque, there was no fixing the fact that taking the specific art history class was a mistake.

First off, it was Baroque art _history_ which meant sitting in a classroom with the unmanageable rolling chairs taking notes from a rambling lecturer for an hour in a half. Second, it was late enough in the afternoon that drinking coffee was out of the question unless he wanted to stay up all night. To top it off, the class was taught in total darkness save for the projector at the front of the room.

The same projector with its high definition images of cherubs currently burning holes in Tendou’s retina; he was going to have a killer migraine after class again. He signed and ran a hand through his hair and lightly tapped his cheek trying to stop himself from falling asleep. Not like the professor would notice, he was too busy describing frescos.

With a groan Tendou rummaged through his bag for a possible snack. He legitimately believed that the history of art was interesting. Beyond interesting, art _had meaning;_ it was impactful. During the renaissance era it conveyed so much more information beyond a scene in time. A piece could convey the status or wealth of patrons, political undercurrents of the time, or the desire of the people. Tendou signed up for the class purely because of works commissioned by the Catholic Church to counter the Reformation because there was so much more going on than color schemes.

But this class, _this class,_ was turning out to be a drowsy, confusing, and a mistake just like his housemates had warned him. He’d sat next to Semi when they’d signed up for classes, Semi had warned him against a late and long class with a professor that was rumored to be terrible.

The rumors didn’t do the professor justice; he was now lecturing in Italian.

The professor clicked to the next slide. Michelangelo’s _Creation of Adam_ appeared on the screen in a crystal clear resolution. _Creation of Adam_ depicting a nude Adam reaching out and touching the hand of god.

Tendou’s resolve went out the window. He pulled out his phone, opened up Snapchat, and proceeded to abandon maturity for the remainder of class.

_"Renaissance Dick Pick"_

Tendou captioned the picture and began searching for Semi’s username. As soon as it popped up, Tendou hit sent before he realized that he hadn’t sent it to _just_ Semi; he’d sent the picture to the group containing all the former third years of his highschool volleyball team. ‘Whoops’ was an understatement. The responses were immediate.

 

_TENDO!_

_dude wtf?_

_Three years later I’m honestly not surprised_. _You meant to send this to Semi only didn’t you?_

_Can you two please not spam the group chat with things like this?_

Tendou snickered, he could practically hear everyone’s distinct voice. Semi was probably going to yell at him later.

**_UshiWaka took a screenshot!_ **

Tendou choked on the gummies he had found in his backpack

 _This is inappropriate Tendou,_ Ushijima typed and Tendou frowned. Why had he taken a screenshot?

Then a picture showed up. Adam from _Creation of Adam_ now had a pink bikini with purple stripes painted over him.

 _There, fixed him,_ Ushijima had captioned.

 

Tendou had to bite his knuckle to keep himself from attracting the attention of the professor by laughing. The students next to him looked at him like he was crazy. At least they couldn’t see the tears starting to stream from his eyes. The group chat exploded, Tendou’s phone creating an audible buzz as his former teammates responded.

The professor, completely unaware, flipped to the next image. It was carved statues by a fountain this time.

 _The Baroque Bikini Show will now begin_ Tendou typed into the group chat.

 

Once again he aimed his phone at the screen and took a picture before getting to work with painting. It was difficult, his wished he’d brought some sort of stylus to class so that he wouldn’t have to use his clumsy fingers on the small screen to try and draw on the art pieces. Satisfied with the edits made to the piece, Tendou sent it to the group chat and bit his lip in attempt to curb his laughter at people’s responses.

 

_10/10 exquisite design_

_Such top models_

_Tendou pay attention in class_

_I don’t think periwinkle is my color, pass_

 

The students next to Tendou were now trying to peer over his shoulder to see what it was that had made him snort loudly and hit his knee on the underside of the desk. The professor prattled on and on. Tendou knew he and the professor both spoke the same language however Tendou couldn’t gain any information from the stream of nonsense that spilled out of the man’s mouth. He couldn’t string the man’s words into coherent thoughts let alone decent notes to study.

The projector clicked and then it appeared, Michelangelo’s _David_ in all its shining glory. Tendou took a deep breath and began his next masterpiece.

Blue again for sure. But with polka dots this time. And Neon green trim. It would be a one-piece but a sexier one piece. The contours, the lines, it would all work together harmoniously.

_David featuring a tricolored, polkadotted blue one piece_

He had been so focused on getting everything just right, getting as close to perfection as he could, and coming up with the perfect caption to summarize that Tendou didn’t see who was watching him work.

Until his professor cleared his throat right behind him.

Tendou jumped and smacked his elbow on the table, his phone flew from his hands and conveniently into his backpack.

“Is this what you think of Baroque art?” His professor snapped.

 “Just trying to stay awake during lecture sir,” Tendou said without thinking. Whoops, accidental honesty.

“Hmph.” Even in the darkness Tendou could sense the haughty scowl his professor wore. “Come early next week, I will see you before the lesson.”

The professor shuffled to the front of the room with an air of indignity and resumed teaching but keeping a closer eye on Tendou.

But he would not see Tendou before the next class, that was for sure. Not if Tendou dropped the class. He scribbled nonsense doodles in his notebook already considering the class dropped like a load of bricks.

 

“I told you that you’d struggle in the class. You’re lucky it is still in the free drop-add period and you can pick up another class,” Semi chided that evening.

Tendou huffed and scrolled through the list of classes with open spaces.

“However,” Semi pulled up his phone to type in the group chat that was still active hours after the first picture, “as immature as it was, your bikini show was funny as shit.”

Tendou grinned and pressed the button to delete Baroque Art History from his schedule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Baroque art is cool, beware silly professors. 
> 
> Actual pictures of this snapchat conversation exist, as soon as I figure them out I'll embed them.
> 
> Up Next: Fine Wine and Iodine


	6. Fine Wine and Iodine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> isshun, it has been while but this one is for you, cheers

The minute Noya sat down on the lab stool across from him with a ridiculous grin, a hickey, and his apron on backwards Ennoshita knew two things.

One, Nishinoya Yuu had a such a great Thirsty-Thursday that he wasn’t completely sober at nine thirty in the morning.

Two, because of this, their chemistry lab was probably going to be shit and they’d have to redo it.

“Goooood morning,” Noya grinned adjusting his lab goggles, “I think I’m still a little drunk,” he whispered.

“Does that make you a fire hazard?” Ennoshita asked fully aware that his sarcasm hadn’t been completely erased by his morning coffee.

Noya laughed at the comment and slapped the table, “Good one, but I’m fine. I can already feel sobriety clearing my head and a hangover beginning to grow.”

“What happened to you last night? If I’m pretty much going to be doing the lab myself I deserve to know,” Ennoshita said flipping to the page for the experiment the class was doing that morning. _Properties and Abilities of Iodine._

Usually there were three former Karasuno students in the lab group however Kageyama, the third member, was nowhere to be found. Ennoshita didn’t know whether to count Kageyama’s temporary absence a blessing or a curse. The three of them, while a good volleyball match-up, were pretty terrible chem-lab partners. Ennoshita had trouble assembling the equipment, Kageyama took forever to read the directions, and Noya was always way to excited to use a Bunsen burner.

(It could have been worse; Tanaka was also taking the same basic chemistry class but had been scheduled a different lab time on another date. Ennoshita shuddered to think what would happen if the _four_ of them worked together. Mass destruction for sure.)

With one person treading the fine line of tipsy and hungover and one person MIA, the experiment was going to be interesting to say the least. 

“Where did you and Asahi go last night? Frat-row gives him anxiety and none of the bars have good music on Thursdays,” Ennoshita questioned.

“We went wine tasting!” Noya chirped.

“What?”

“So Asahi and I went out because we finished our exams for the week and we went to the Irish-pub themed place ten minutes from here,” Noya said jumped into his story, “and there happened to be a _wine tasting_ event in the back courtyard.”

“Which I know neither of you should be able to afford,” Ennoshita said narrowing his eyes.

 “Yeah I thought it would be hilarious if we snuck in the back and joined in on the event. Imagine, two college kids with a bunch of people there for some business party-”

“-wait how did you convince Asahi to even sneak inside?” Ennoshita interrupted.

“I didn’t need to do any convincing, I lead the way and we walked right in while nobody was looking. Honestly, the event should have had better security,” Noya explained. “Anyways, once we were inside Asahi actually began talking to the fancy people and swapping business cards. So I drank enough wine for both of us-”

“- which was enough to make you still a little buzzed hours later,” Ennoshita concluded.

Noya nodded enthusiastically and then winced like he regretted it as his hangover began to settle.

The professor finished taking attendance and Noya’s attempt at mimicking Kageyama’s voice to say “here” actually worked in marking the freshman present for class.

“I knew that would work, the professor never looks up to see who’s talking during attendance. Tanaka owes me ten bucks,” Noya snickered. “Now, let’s get to working with this lab.”

Looking at the instructions showed several different short experiments to demonstrate all the different properties and uses of iodine. Nothing too advanced, the chemistry class the three of them were taking was fairly low level and only satisfied the university’s general science requirement.

Noya had been infuriated when he found out that instead of chemistry, he and Tanaka could have taken a geology class labeled ‘rocks for jocks’ to satisfy the requirement instead. Sometimes, especially when Ennoshita wished the two of them had taken the geology class as well. At least Kageyama didn't spell our profanities with the periodic table or draw hexagons in the shape of a penis during class. 

 

Twenty minutes later, Ennoshita had snapped his pencil and was ready to strangle Noya.

“Wow, I look like I’m sick and dying,” Noya admired his hands, “Ennoshita take my picture; Asahi will freak out.”

Iodine; symbol: I, atomic number: 53, a stable halogen and capable of dyeing things a sickly yellow color.

Everything, _everything_ , in their lab kit had just gained an evil yellow tint thanks to Noya’s butter fingers now stained buttery yellow.

“Stop touching things! Go rinse your hands off!” Ennoshita cried swatting his partner’s hands away from his notebook which was still thankfully normal colored. Honestly, Noya was lucky they had been working with a diluted solution and nothing that could have irritated his skin.

“Do you think this could make my bangs lighter?”

“ _Go wash your hands!”_  

“Having any trouble gentlemen?” Asked the lab professor, a kind woman who spoke with an endearing yet no-nonsense voice. “Where is Kageyama? I could have sworn I heard him during attendance.”

“Here!”

Ennoshita didn’t know whether be thankful or remorseful that the third group member had arrived beyond fashionably late. Kageyama looked tired and like he had recently taken a volleyball to the face.

“What happened to your nose?” Ennoshita asked.

“Hinata is a dumbass,” Kageyama snapped back as he struggled to get his lab coat on. 

“Your observation work looks good,” the professor said as she read over the notes Ennoshita had carefully written in his notebook. (Notes that he would likely be asked for copies of later). “But my goodness all your equipment is going to require some work to return to its original color,” the professor chuckled.

“My hands are still yellow!” Noya returned from the sink shaking water all over the table.

The professor shook her head sighing and Ennoshita finally felt like someone understood the pain of having Noya as a partner.

“Noya, I recommended uncoordinated people to wear gloves for this very reason. Your hands appear to be cleaned however they are likely going to remain yellow for the rest of the day,” she mused.

“Cool!” Noya chirped. Kageyama, able to recognize a tipsy Noya when he saw it, looked slightly alarmed. Ennoshita wished he’d stayed home that day. But if he bailed, their friendship would probably go up in flames. Literally. 

“Anyways,” the professor pointed to a fume hood in the corner of the room, “hood number four is open, looks like you can continue on with the final portion of the lab.”

Ennoshita looked at the diagram in his notebook and at the scattered elements on the table next to the hood. He sincerely hoped Kageyama had read the instructions and would be able to help with the assembly. With an attempt at a reassuring nod, Ennoshita lead the way to the fume hood.

“So what experiment are we doing again?” Kageyama asked and Ennoshita groaned; apparently the freshman had not read the briefing. At the very least, hopefully Kageyama could keep Noya from causing too much damage with the Bunsen burner.

“We’re going to be looking at the physical change iodine goes through when confronted with heat,” Ennoshita recited off the top of his head.

“We’re gonna light it on fire!” Noya cried making a grab for the matches.

“NO!” Ennoshita snatched the danger sticks away. “Just hold my notebook and read the steps aloud to me. _I’ll_ set it all up. You two watch.”

“We can help,” Kageyama argued.

“You’re still missing part of your eyebrow,” Ennoshita snapped back.

“Step one,” Noya sat on a nearby stool swinging his feet, “place the Bunsen burner under the ring stand with the ceramic dish with the watch glass with a little water and some iodine crystals inside. Step two-”

“- wait what?” Ennoshita blinked trying to remember what everything was called.

“Does ceramic dish go on top of the watch glass or the watch glass on top of the ceramic dish?”

“Are the iodine and water together or separate?” Kageyama held up two different pieces questioningly.

“It all goes like a sandwich!”

“Noya that doesn’t help,” Ennoshita could feel a headache forming.

“Maybe if you read it again more slowly-”

“-what about step two-”

“- _give me the lab book,_ ” Ennoshita ripped it out of Noya’s hands trading him for the booklet of matches. “Don’t burn these all away while I’m doing the set up,” he ordered.

Ennoshita then shoved the book into Kageyama’s chest, “hold this and don’t say anything.”

Five burned matches later, a rickety contraption resembling the one drawn in the lab book stood at the center of the hood. It was slightly crooked but at this point Ennoshita didn’t care. Kageyama wanted to be the one to place the iodine in the ceramic glass (the water went in the watch glass balancing on top) and Noya was itching to start the Bunsen burner. They could lose their eyebrows for all Ennoshita cared.

“How much iodine?” Kageyama held up the tiny jar and scoop questioningly.

“A quarter spoonful,” Ennoshita sighed.

“Do a whole spoonful,” Noya said.

“Noya _no,_ ”

“Go big or go home!” Noya cried shoving Kageyama’s elbow making him dump more solid iodine than was necessary into the ceramic dish.

“WAIT!” Ennoshita yelled. He took it back; he very much did care if they started a fire in the lab. 

“Flip the switch, get the gas, and light the burner!” Noya cried turning on the fume hood and starting up the Bunsen burner.

The sound of the fan covered up Ennoshita’s agonized groaning as Noya, like a runaway horse, charged ahead with the experiment with little regard for lab safety. At least Ennoshita had gotten him to wear his goggles.

A cheery blue flame began to heat up the underside of the ceramic dish containing the iodine crystals. The water on the underside of the watch glass began to bubble and steam slightly.

The experiment was one of many demonstrating the difference between a physical change and a chemical change. The iodine would be heated and turn into a gas. Upon coming into contact with the glass dish full of water, it would cool and reform crystals on the other side showing the quick change in state (a physical change). ‘Climbing Iodine’ their professor had jokingly called it.

Except now that Noya was the one running the show, Ennoshita had no idea what the results would be.

“I think that’s enough,” Ennoshita said tentatively. Neither of his lab partners appeared to hear him. “Noya that’s enough turn the burner off!”

Noya switched off the gas and the blue flame disappeared. Kageyama picked up a pair of tongs taking a few moments to click them like a pair of crab claws.

“Let’s see our new iodine crystals!”

Kageyama gripped the watch glass and lifted it away from the ceramic dish.

_Fwoosh_

The three of them cried out as an enormous puff of brilliant fuchsia smoke billowed from within the small white dish. It was breathtakingly beautiful, the thick wine colored swirls twirling like a genie escaping a bottle. It was impossible to believe their eyes; the smoke was alluring like the aroura borealis dancing in the night sky. It was so vibrant and eye-catching that it stunned the three of them into silence as they watched the iodine smoke be sucked away by the fume hood until it had disappeared.

_“Whoa,”_ Kageyama breathed. The tiny crystals that had formed during the procedure were insignificant compared to the brilliant show.

“You boys alright over there?” The professor called making the three of them jump.

“We’re fine!” Ennoshita choked out and Noya nodded furiously.

They’d just broken probably a dozen lab safety rules. (Which honestly wasn’t that drastic for group considering how dysfunctional they were. Plus, Tanaka could probably break a dozen by himself.)

“Next time listen to the directions,” Ennoshita hissed.

“But that was totally awesome!” Noya argued.

“Cool,” Kageyama said again still holding the watch glass with the tiny re-formed crystals.

“We gotta do it again,” Noya pleaded.

“What? NO!” Ennoshita whirled towards Noya furiously shaking his head.

“It was fine, as long as we don’t make a commotion we’re good.”

“ _No,_ ”

“Please?”

“Why do you even want to do it again Noya?”

“….for Instagram…and my snapchat story.”

Ennoshita looked at Kageyama and Noya and then over to the professor who was currently helping another group of students.

“Be quick,”

“ _YES!”_

 

 

 

**Text from Tanaka**

Hey

 

**Text from Ennoshita**

What?

 

**Text from Tanaka**

Check ur email

Just got smthin bout lab safety and the proper use of equipment n materials.

Like a super long email to everyone taking Chem100

Any idea why they sent it?

 

**Text from Ennoshita**

Nope

 

**Text from Tanaka**

U sure?

They mentioned your lab section.

And Noya had this cool video on his story 

 

**Text from Ennoshita**

I don’t know what you are talking about.

 

**Text from Tanaka**

Really?

 

**Text from Ennoshita**

Really.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT go to a chemistry lab unless you are 100% able to participate safely. Don't be a Noya, don't irritate your fellow Ennoshitas who just want to help you save your grade, don't set a bad example for your fellow Kageyamas. 
> 
> What shall happen next?  
> \- Is Something Burning?  
> \- Ship-faced Dirty Oars  
> \- Adventure Mountain Sundae

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Always be sure to practice safe sex and, if needed, educate yourself with reliable sources of information!
> 
> What story should be told next?  
> \- Bacon at Odd Hours  
> \- Breaking the Car Door  
> \- Immaturity it Art Class
> 
> swim by at https://aetobatus-narinari.tumblr.com


End file.
